Page 8 of Claimed By the Werewolf Boss
“I’m sorry I’m late.” She drops her beach bag by the door. “There was a huge, like, policed-off area next to the pier. Dino had to drive around it and there was traffic.”
Her shirt is dry, but there is a clear area of dampness around her shorts implying she’s been swimming. What do her bottoms look like? Are they lavender? Do they tie together at the sides the way her bikini top does? God, I’d unwrap her like a present on Christmas morning.
There is a red glow across her cheeks and chest from a sunburn. What I wouldn’t give to be rubbing herdown in aloe right now, feeling her softness give and mould to my firm hands.
From the corner of the room, Cristina clears her throat. She raises her eyebrow at me. Well shit. I look down at my hands, covered in dark grey fur and tipped with razor-sharp claws. A glance around the room shows that my capo is the only person who noticed. She gives me a thumbs up when I swipe my hand through my thicker than normal hair. No fucking ears at least. I don’t think she’d ever let me live that down.
“We are just getting started, Chey, put on some dry clothes and you can pick out a colour.” Junelle smiles. “Then I want the tea on the new idea you had.”
I watch Cheyenne go. Every fibre of my being screams to chase her. Hunt her down and pin her to the ground so she knows not to leave a room before I say she can. Between everything that has happened this morning and the ideas this book is absolutely giving me, I need to get my woman locked down before I do something drastic like bite her throat while Junelle walks down the aisle.
My head turns in the direction of her room, and I wait until I hear the lock click shut before I stand up. Each step is like I’ve got concrete shoes. My feet drag across the house until I get to the kitchen. A drink should take the edge off, something to dull my senses for the afternoon. Maybe I’ll sit by the pool in the freshair, where I won’t be able to smell Cheyenne, where no one will bother me and finish this book.
Dino:About to tap out for the day. Nicky’s taking over for me.
Dino:Also Giancarlo wanted me to relay this to you?
Why the fuck didn’t he just text me? I even messaged him this morning personally. He’s a weird guy, but he’s loyal to the family beyond comparison. I guess that means the hierarchy of it as well.
Dino:“Ciao Mr Benetti, thank you so much for this opportunity. We greatly enjoyed taking care of your special guest and any future guests you send down to our pier. It was a pleasure to serve her. She was exceptionally kind. In your message this morning you mentioned to place anything she ordered on your tab. Please find the receipt for the day for your information. It has already been taken care of.”
A picture of a very short receipt comes through. One slice of watermelon. That’s it. Not even a glass of water or a sandwich. Cheyenne was down there all damn day. She must be fucking starving.
She was so red when she rushed into the house. Could she have heatstroke? My body moves while my mind races with questions. I slap together some of the leftover bits from our picnic and fill a pitcher with ice water.
Me:Got it. Thanks for the update.
Dino:So should I be watching this girl more closely or…
Those fucking dots hang heavy in the air. I can take care of my own mate, but I can’t be everywhere. It’d probably be good to get Cheyenne adjusted to this lifestyle, to always having one of my guys with her when I’m not around. But saying all that to Dino before I’ve even mentioned to the rest of the family would step on too many toes.
Me:No.
There, settled. I shove my phone into my pocket and start towards Cheyenne’s room. If she isn’t going to take proper care of herself, I sure fucking am.
I’m her mate, just as much as she is mine.
Chapter four
Cheyenne
I’m still in my towel when there is a hard knock on my door.Shit, shit, shit, I need to get presentable.The knock gets more insistent. Fuck it, nobody here will care. Junelle is marrying into a loving, but veryopenfamily. I won’t be surprised if I see at least one random person’s boob before the end of this trip. Opening the door in the oversized towel I brought from home isn’t going to hurt anyone’s feelings.
“Sorry, I’m coming,” I call out, rushing from the bathroom to swing open the door.
Valentino looks from my sunburnt cheeks to my cleavage tan lines before he stomps into the room like he owns the place. I suppose in a roundabout way he does, since this villa belongs to Andrea’sgreat-grandmother. But shouldn’t I be annoyed that he is storming into my space like this?
“Do you need something?” I ask, holding the top of my towel up and out of the way.
“Yes,” he says rather forcefully, closing the door with his foot.
He sets a pitcher and a plate of food on the fancy dresser without a single care for the wood. He pours a glass of water and hands it to me. Our fingers brush together and heat rushes through me. It’s not the external warmth that has my cheeks humming like a furnace, but a deeper heat that pulses right beside my heart.
“Drink, all of it.” He points at me while he says it in a very superior tone.
I’ve got half a mind to tell him that he can’t boss me around, but I see the look in his eyes. It isn’t threatening, it’s not even that intimidating, but it’s dark and serious in a way you only read about in books. I take the first sip under his watchful stare until thirst takes over and I chug the whole glass.
I hadn’t realised I was so dehydrated after getting a bit lost in the book I was reading at the pier. It’s been so long since I could just sit. Between curriculum planning, grading papers, writing deadlines during Christmas vacation, and everything else going on, therehasn’t been a moment to breathe since fall break. That was over six months ago. Maybe I am burnt out.
